


it's time for taking chances

by wrizard



Series: Taking Chances [2]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Casual Sex, Complicated Relationships, D/s play, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Gratuitous Friendship, Gratuitous Smut, Handcuffs, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, POV Multiple, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn with lots of sex??, Trans Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Unsneaky Flirting, amputee character, bickering marrieds, some Mentor/Student dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 23:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30046296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrizard/pseuds/wrizard
Summary: “He’s sweet, isn’t he?” Patroclus says, his voice low and rumbling through Achilles’ ribs. “Your boy Zagreus.”Achilles frowns a little, squirming in place. “What are you planning?”“Nothing, dear. Just a thought, that’s all.” Patroclus grins, his small secret smile just for Achilles.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game), Achilles/Patroclus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Hypnos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Megaera/Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Series: Taking Chances [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210358
Comments: 9
Kudos: 61





	it's time for taking chances

**Author's Note:**

> Content note: in this fic, transman Zagreus has lots of enthusiastic, and kinky, sex with multiple cis* partners. For specific language Zag uses for his body, see end notes. Also, Achilles is Zagreus' physical trainer, and has been for several years; the power dynamic is discussed briefly in the first chapter, and probably more in the second (I'll update this when the dang thing is finished).
> 
> *(Their respective experiences with gender don't come up in this fic.)

“He’s sweet, isn’t he?” Patroclus says, his voice low and rumbling through Achilles’ ribs. “Your boy Zagreus.”

Achilles frowns a little, squirming in place. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing, dear. Just a thought, that’s all.” Patroclus grins, his small secret smile just for Achilles, and pushes in deeper.

Achilles shuts his eyes with a tight, pleased groan, clutching back at Patroclus’ side. “Never just a thought, with you.”

Patroclus chuckles. “Well, someone has to be the brains to your brawn.”

“You’re brawny enough for the both of us.” Patroclus’ skin is warm in the cool air of their room, AC blasting to battle back the sticky summer heat, and Achilles presses back happily into his husband’s chest.

With a gentle scrape of teeth, Patroclus kisses down the back of Achilles’ neck. “I’m not having that one out with you again.”

“Come on, love, where’s your fighting spirit?” Achilles laughs.

“Up your arse.”

With that, Patroclus moves in earnest, and Achilles lets the topic melt into sun-hot pleasure.

-

“It’s not like you met him when he was some underaged waif,” Patroclus says, apropos of nothing.

Achilles finishes twisting the last strands of the braid he’s plaiting. “Zagreus?”

Patroclus hums, as good as a yes, and leans his head back into Achilles’ lap.

“He was twenty-one, barely,” Achilles mutters. “Oil.”

Patroclus holds up the little pot of hair oil long enough for Achilles to scoop a bit onto his fingers. “At twenty-one we were veterans.”

Achilles grunts, non-committal, and starts working on the next plait.

“I don’t see why you’re being so stubborn about this.”

“How can I be stubborn when I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

Over his shoulder, Patroclus shoots Achilles a Look.

“Stop moving,” Achilles says, “I’ll mess up your hair.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?”

“It’s a fact.” Patroclus relaxes back into Achilles’ hands. “You should talk to him.”

“I talk to him three times a week,” Achilles says.

“Oh, stop.”

“Fine, then, what do you want me to talk to him about?”

“I think you should invite him over. Just for tea, nothing nefarious.”

Achilles pauses. “Lord. You like him.”

“He’s a sweet young man with his heart in the right place, talented and strong, and he’s terribly eager to be loved,” Patroclus says, easy as breath, easy as dreaming. “Reminds me of someone.”

“I’m sure this is entirely charitable, then.”

“Oh, yes. Not a thing to do with his lovely jawline. Or his gorgeous thighs.”

They both pause a minute, then, in thoughts of smooth skin and taut muscle.

“Dirty old men, the both of us,” snickers Achilles.

-

Patroclus is two-thirds of the way through his book when he notices Zagreus hovering awkwardly at the edge of the café. The boy clutches an eye-searingly magenta travel mug like a lifeline, shifting his weight back and forth and pretending not to stare.

Patroclus could just leave him. Watch him squirm. The thought sends a spark of mean pleasure through the part of him that loves to play with his food. But no, there’s no reason to leave Zagreus blowing in the wind, not today – poor boy looks like he’s about to combust with nerves.

“How now, stranger,” Patroclus calls.

With a relieved smile, Zagreus waves. “Hello, sir! May I join you for a moment?”

Patroclus gestures, a sort of _do you see anyone else sitting here?_ , and carefully sets down his book.

Zagreus hustles over, skirting past a few other patrons with polite _pardon me-_ s, and stops before Patroclus like he’s awaiting inspection. His hair stands in its usual gravity-defying spiked mess, a little shiny from gel and sweat. He’s sporting his gym clothes, too, a pair of loose basketball shorts and a tank that sends Patroclus’ eye straight to his well-muscled shoulders.

“Well? Are you going to sit?” Patroclus says.

“Ah, right, sorry, sir.” He pulls out the chair beside Patroclus, not across from him, and flops into the seat like a well-run Labrador, tucking his worn duffle bag under the table.

Patroclus narrows his eyes. “I thought we moved on from “sir” months ago.”

“Of course, sir,” Zagreus says, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

An exasperated smile threatens to creep onto Patroclus’ face, but he holds it in check, for now. He leans back in his chair. “So, out with it.”

Zagreus looks at him with a bright, innocent expression. “What do you mean?”

“You think I can’t tell when you’re angling for a favour?”

“Well, I – ” Zagreus looks down at his awful mug, concern clouding over his face. “I do enjoy your company, sir, I don’t mean to take advantage.”

Patroclus waves that one away like a bad odor. “Humility. How terribly boring. What do you want, lad? Spit it out.”

Zagreus flushes lightly, rose-pink blossoming on his cheeks. “I hoped… to ask your advice, I think. I find myself in a curious position, and as someone with more life experience…”

“Ha. Are you calling me an old man?”

Zagreus fiddles with his mug, blunt fingers tapping lightly in a pattern Patroclus can’t make out. It reminds him of Achilles, as a youth, endlessly moving, thinking himself in grand circles and wearing anxious ruts in his own mind.

Patroclus reaches out, pats Zagreus’ wrist. It’s warm, skin hot with rushing blood. Zagreus looks at him, a startled, bright gaze.

“I don’t bite,” Patroclus says, wryly. “If I can help you, I will, and if I can’t, no harm done.”

The boy smiles a little, and settles, hand falling still. “It’s about my relationship. With Than.”

Ah. The tall boy, with the awful haircut. Patroclus remembers spotting them walking by the gym, all caught up in each other, faces bare inches apart and baffled, nervous delight in their postures. “All is well?”

“Yes, it’s all fine! We’re fine,” Zagreus says.

“Of course, when you say it that way.”

Pinking further, Zagreus curls up a little. “It’s not – the issue isn’t between us. Not really.”

“Then who?”

Zagreus whines miserably, dropping his head into his hands. “My ex.”

_There_ it is, Patroclus thinks, setting on the smell of intrigue like a bloodhound. “The one with the whips and the, ah, charming family?”

“Mhm,” Zagreus groans into his hands. “We’re, uh. Than wanted some experience with kink stuff, before we played together, so he went to her – they’ve known each other far longer than he even knew me, they grew up together, and they trust each other so deeply, it’s amazing the love they have, really.”

Patroclus raises his eyebrows.

“And he’s been amazing about it, totally open, communicative, so it’s not a problem or anything, it’s just… He’s never wanted anyone else before. And they have so much history.” Zagreus rubs at his temple. “And she’s a good friend. One of the best.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I still love her,” Zagreus blurts. “But we split for good reason. And when he talks about her, he lights up, and I don’t _get_ jealous, but here I am. And I don’t know who I’m jealous of.” He looks down at the tabletop, suddenly exhausted. “I’m a mess.”

Youth. Patroclus thinks fondly of his own idiocy at that age – barely out of pre-med, serving abroad with his best friend. When life was bright and endless. Before he lost his leg. Before Achilles left. Before he met this strange, sweet, blazing boy, who brought his life back out of simple kindness.

“Have you tried talking to them about it?” Patroclus says.

Zagreus shakes his head in despair. “I’d just muck it up. I’m awful at talking.”

“Well, that’s not true. And, second, what do you think will happen? They’ll take each other, flip you the bird, ride into the sunset? Lad, I’ve seen the way your boy looks at you, and with the way you talk about him, he’d rather stab himself in the foot than even think about breaking your heart.”

Zagreus drops his head onto the lid of his mug. “I _know_ ,” he whines.

Patroclus snorts. “Then what are you talking to me for?”

“I’m _nervous_. I don’t want to mess up what we have.”

Patroclus, in a flight of whimsy, blows a raspberry. It startles Zagreus enough that he pops up, nearly knocking over his drink. “What do we say to that?”

Zagreus sighs. “Fear is for the weak.”

“Exactly.”

“But I’m scared.”

“Everyone is scared. That’s the point. Don’t languish in it.”

Zagreus frowns, stubborn. “I’m not strong enough.”

Patroclus cuts him off with a snort. “And I have little fairy wings, while we’re talking nonsense.”

Zagreus just stares mulishly at the table.

“Go talk to them. Get a table somewhere neutral. Figure it out. You’re clever, lad, and you have a good heart. So do they. You’ll find something.”

Zagreus looks up, a faint thread of heartbroken hope in his eyes. “You think?”

Patroclus’ heart clenches a little. He’s getting soft in his old age. “I do. And if you wanted someone to lie to you, you wouldn’t have come to me in the first place.”

A little giggle, and Zagreus is finally smiling again. Not his full, bright, beaming grin, but a sweet, private smile. Like a gift.

Patroclus tears his eyes away and rifles through his bag for his wallet. “Now go get me a scone. Get yourself something, too, while you’re there.”

Zagreus laughs. “Yes, sir.”

“And don’t think I don’t know you’re using me for my money,” Patroclus says. “Pastry fiend.”

“But, sir, you’re so generous,” Zagreus says, shoving his chair back. “And I _am_ just a growing boy. I need food to grow up big and strong.”

“Brat,” Patroclus mutters, fondly. “If you get any taller, I’ll eat my leg.”

“The biological one?” Zagreus calls, already lining up.

“No, the plastic one. Done up with herbs.”

“Crunchy.”

Patroclus laughs, a spark of warm playfulness fluttering in his chest. If those two kids don’t take care of this boy properly, he’s going to take him home and do it his damned self.

-

Zagreus walks into his Monday training session with a blissful smile and a hitch in his step.

Achilles, limbering up at the barre, pauses. “Morning, lad.”

“Morning,” Zagreus echoes.

“Been busy?”

“A little.”

Achilles sighs, smile tugging at his mouth. “I take it you finally hashed out your… situation?”

“Oh, I,” Zagreus starts, then shakes his head. “Of course he told you, you’re married.”

“Cohabitating and everything,” Achilles says brightly. “Thanks to you.”

Zagreus shakes his head and neatly unrolls his yoga mat. “You would’ve found each other eventually. I was just lucky.”

“You have a terrible habit of refusing to claim your triumphs. We’ll have to break you of that, sometime,” Achilles says. Then, he blushes, just a little. He turns back to the barre to finish stretching. “So, back to you?”

In the mirror, Achilles can see the way Zagreus brightens. “Oh! Yes! We talked everything out – we’re going to try being a triad, at least for a little while. It went far better than I thought, honestly.”

“Far better, indeed,” Achilles mutters. Even if he didn’t know Zagreus as well as he did, the boy’s excellent night is written all over his face. And his stance. “Let’s go a little easier, today. Focus on balance and stamina.”

“No sparring today, sir?”

“Not with you standing like that, no,” Achilles finally says.

“Oh,” Zagreus says, and flushes a deep red. “I, uh. Sorry, sir. My bad.”

Startled, Achilles laughs, broad and open, the way he only does at home. “I’m sure you were very bad, to be walking that way,” he says.

His words hit him a moment after they leave his mouth, and he nearly turns and walks right out the door. But Zagreus, sweet Zagreus, cackles in embarrassed delight. “Perhaps a bit,” he says, and ruffles his hair. “I’m not half as uncomfortable as I expected, honestly.”

Achilles doesn’t let himself say the first thing he thinks, nor the second, but the third slips out of him while he’s wrangling his other impulses. “You’d best follow directions a little better today than you did last night, then. Wouldn’t want to make that limp any worse.”

Zagreus’ eyes widen, and he flushes even deeper. “Ah. Of course, sir. Wouldn’t… wouldn’t want that.”

Achilles, breath catching in his chest, turns back to the mirror and avoids his own eyes. He takes a moment to be grateful for his age, and the fact that it takes more than a little flirting to get his blood up properly. “Ten minutes to stretch, and then we’ll get you going on some bodyweight exercises.”

“Right. Yes, sir,” Zagreus says, eager, determined, familiar.

The rest of the session goes quickly, and Achilles does his best not to think about anything but his work.

-

“Darling,” Achilles pants, “please, come on, let me,” and tugs at Patroclus’ fly with both hands.

“What’s gotten into you,” Patroclus laughs.

“Need you,” Achilles groans.

Patroclus grins, and leans back in his chair. “By all means.”

It takes alarmingly little time for Achilles to pull Patroclus’ cock out, even with fumbling fingers, and even less time for him to slip Patroclus right into his hot, wet mouth. His face is a blotchy tomato-red, eyes shining and breath heavy.

“Fuck,” Patroclus mutters. He strokes the side of Achilles’ head. “Look at you. Gorgeous.”

Achilles stares up at him, gaze pleading, cheek distended, hand stuffed into his sweatpants. Magnanimous as always, Patroclus twists his hand neatly into Achilles’ curls, giving a solid tug. His eyes snap shut and he shudders.

“You’re all worked up,” Patroclus notes, voice tight. “Something happen at the gym?”

Achilles moans, a little _uh-uh_ refusal. Patroclus can see Achilles’ hand working in his trousers, pumping away.

Fond and delighted, Patroclus yanks at Achilles’ hair again. “Liar.”

It’s a Monday. What happens on Monday to get him this flustered? He only does one-on-ones during the week, so it’s not from a class, and Mondays are for –

Oh. Oh, _really_.

“Achilles, my love,” croons Patroclus, “did you see our sweet boy this morning?”

With an embarrassed groan, Achilles presses back into Patroclus’ hand.

Patroclus grins wickedly, and takes the cue for what it is, shoving Achilles’ head down further, savouring the little spasms of his throat. “You did, didn’t you. Naughty.” He pulls Achilles off him with a rough yank.

Achilles coughs a little, drool spilling over his lips. “Please,” he groans, voice raspy and low. “Pat, fuck my face.”

“No, don’t think I will, just yet,” Patroclus muses, and takes his cock in his free hand, smearing it wetly over Achilles’ lips. Achilles pulls forward, trying to reach him, to suck him back in, but Patroclus holds his head still. “He figured out his little drama, then. Maybe came to see you, all soft and fucked out?”

Achilles’ moan is desperate, despairing.

Patroclus smiles, wry. “And you had him all sweaty and straining under your hands for _hours_.”

Achilles’ eyes slip closed again, and his hand moves frantically under his sweatpants.

“And, I bet, all that time, all you could think about was him, spread out under you. Fucking him. Or him fucking you. Strapping on his biggest cock and fucking your throat, just like this,” Patroclus hisses, and with a sharp tug, shoves himself into Achilles’ mouth to the hilt.

He doesn’t give Achilles any time to adjust, just fucks him, steady and deep, dragging his head back and forth by his golden curls. He gags, just a bit, but doesn’t choke – they’ve played this game before, over and over, from sunlit bedrooms to barrack bathrooms to once, memorably, the back alley behind the pub by their first flat. It’s an old favourite, familiar as the taste of lips, as the first rain of spring. Patroclus knows just how far to push, and Achilles how far to pull.

Throat full of Patroclus, Achilles comes, eyes rolling. He swallows hard, a tight ring of muscle clutching the head of Patroclus’ cock and sending a flood of hot, slick pleasure through Patroclus’ bones.

Patroclus growls, and doesn’t let up.

It only takes a minute or so for him to come, cursing, down Achilles’ throat.

Achilles stares up at him, eyes wide, body lax against Patroclus’ leg. Patroclus pulls out, letting his hair go slowly so the prickles of Achilles’ scalp don’t slide into a full ache. He’s lovely when he’s fucked out; pliant and pleased, glowing with pleasure, always-tense muscles loose and relaxed.

“Water?” Patroclus says, soft and loving.

“Mmm,” Achilles grunts, which means yes, but in a minute, after he’s got his fill of petting.

Patroclus chuckles, and strokes at Achilles’ cheek. “You could have told me when you came in,” he says, eyes twinkling.

“Where’s the fun in that,” Achilles rasps. “You like a good mystery.”

“Fair point.”

Achilles, struck by a thought, giggles. “That was in breach of just about every ethics code there is.”

Patroclus laughs, too. “If you gave a rat’s arse about ethics, we wouldn’t be married, _Captain_.”

“Oh, shut it,” Achilles sniggers, and nuzzles into Patroclus’ thigh. “Shame that lovely cock is attached to such a bastard.”

“Shame that lovely mouth is attached to such a prat.”

“Hey,” Achilles says, and leans up, neck elegantly curved. “You love me.”

“Gods help me, I do,” Patroclus says, and tilts down to kiss him into silence.

-

A few weeks later, Patroclus spots Zagreus at the grocery store. The young man is squinting at the back of a carton of oat milk, a basket full of produce at his feet, tucked away from the crowd in the Organics section.

Drawing his cart up beside Zagreus, Patroclus makes sure he’s distracted before saying, “Hello, stranger. Are you lost?”

Zagreus jumps, nearly throwing the oat milk, and Patroclus chuckles. “Ah, sir! I didn’t see you there.”

“It pays to keep an eye out,” Patroclus says, winningly. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting… groceries?”

Patroclus almost rolls his eyes. “In the neighborhood.”

“Ah,” Zagreus says. “My girlfriend lives nearby, actually – just in the tower, up there.” He gestures somewhere northish. “Just picking her up something properly healthy for the weekend.” He’s wearing a delighted little grin to go with his regular athleisure, and hasn’t bothered to gel up his hair, making do with a leaf-patterned headband. It clashes awfully.

“Terribly domestic of you,” Patroclus says.

Zagreus laughs, embarrassed. “We all eat well, but she’s an awful cook – so Than fixes up some of our dinners, and I’m in charge of lunches and snacks.”

“When on earth did you learn to cook?”

“Oh, there’s a friend of mine who took it upon herself to cure my delivery addiction,” Zagreus chuckles. “Her boyfriend worked at my father’s place for a while. They used to sing together, but the band split up - it was a whole thing. Last year I finally got them to start talking again. She’s been dropping hints that he’s about to propose, actually, it’s very sweet.”

“I knew it.” When Zagreus cocks his head, Patroclus grins. “I bet Achilles there’s no way we were the only relationship you stuck your lovely nose in. Unfortunately for him, I knew at a glance that you’re an incurable meddler.”

“Ah,” Zagreus says, ducking his head. “I suppose.”

“Nothing wrong with meddling, lad. It’s the work of a kind heart, after all.”

“What did you bet him?”

Patroclus pauses. Zagreus is looking at him oddly, from under his eyelashes, a little nervous tap in his foot. There’s a tension in his carefully relaxed hands that wasn’t there before.

To be honest, Achilles bet him twenty dollars and a foot massage. But something about the boy in front of him makes Patroclus want to _push_. So he winks, and says, “I think you can guess.”

Zagreus blushes prettily, a rosy flush high on his cheeks. “Ah.”

“ _Ah_ indeed. I’m in for a fun night,” Patroclus adds, eyes locked on Zagreus’ face.

Zagreus’ eyes flick up and down, following the long line of Patroclus’ body from toes to shoulders, tracing back over his arms and down the length of his crutches. Patroclus can almost feel his gaze, lighting up his skin, making his blood feel hot and thick and _real_.

“What kind of fun?” Zagreus asks, posture casual, voice honey-dark.

Patroclus can feel himself smiling, all teeth. “Hm. Maybe when you’re older.”

Zagreus laughs, a bright, sharp, glittering sound, and it makes Patroclus think about how that laugh might sound in a smaller room, with a warm bed, with the rasp of a long night. How it might sound in harmony with Achilles’ deep, musical chime. “I’m twenty-five, not a child.”

“And, yet, I remain more than a decade your senior.”

“You’re still more than hearty enough to take me on.”

Patroclus tilts his head. “You think so?”

Zagreus finally picks up his shopping basket, popping the oat milk inside. “Well. Maybe if you eat your vegetables.”

And before Patroclus can say anything to _that_ , Zagreus slips off into the crowd.

-

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Zagreus whines, tugging uselessly on his soft leather cuffs, thighs quivering. “Meg, come on, please.”

Megaera just snorts, delicately.

Under Zagreus, Thanatos keeps up his steady, excruciating movements, fingers crooked inside Zagreus’ hole and lips sealed over Zagreus’ cock, sucking like his life depends on it.

Zagreus cries out and tries to grind down further onto Thanatos’ face. “Gods, please, I can’t, _Meg_.”

From her spot on at the head of the bed, Megaera lazily circles a finger around her clit. Her boys look stunning, like this; they always do, but today the sunlight around them is bright and clear, gleaming off Thanatos’ hair and Zagreus’ sharp, white teeth. “Than, sweetheart,” she says, “keep at it.”

With a hot breath, Thanatos picks up speed, and Zagreus snarls, back twitching and hands clutching at one another.

She’s got Zagreus riding Thanatos’ face this afternoon, with Zagreus’ arms cuffed tight behind his back, keeping him off-balance and needy. Zagreus is flushed pink all down his muscled torso, a lovely contrast to the soft brown of Thanatos. Pity Thanatos isn’t so obvious with his blushes. It would be lethally sweet, with his big liquid eyes and his sharp jaw and his squishy, vulnerable heart.

Zagreus groans. “Meg, please, I’m gonna come.”

“Stop,” Megaera snaps.

Thanatos looks at Megaera, eyes wide, and slips his fingers out of Zagreus, who yelps.

Megaera sprawls back into the pillows, smug satisfaction rolling through her in waves and gathering right under her clit. “Suck me off. Do a good job and maybe I’ll let Than fuck you.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” whines Zagreus. He clambers awkwardly off of Thanatos’ head, bound hands clutching at nothing, crotch gleaming wet. It takes a minute for him to fumble his way to Megaera across the soft bed, and when he does, he groans, diving pretty much face-first into her cunt.

Megaera hisses and fists his hair, pushing him down onto her clit. “Mmm. Good boy.”

Whatever Zagreus says to that is lost in the wet, slick sounds of his tongue and the tight suckling of his lips. For a brat, he’s damned good at giving head – has been since their first fumbling forays into touch, when they discovered themselves through each other, hush-quiet in her high school bedroom so long ago.

Now, zinging sparks of pleasure shoot out to her toes as he teases at her with his hot mouth. With her hand in his hair, Zagreus looks a gorgeous, debauched mess, face pink, eyes dark, weight on his chest with his hands behind his back and his tight ass in the air.

Behind him, Thanatos drags himself up to sitting, punch-drunk, shiny and slick from his cheeks down. He’s moving a slowly, like he’s swimming through warm honey. She catches his eye. He grins sweetly. Meg lets herself smirk back.

“Harder,” she instructs, still staring at Thanatos, and Zagreus hums, licking into her with single-minded concentration. Thanatos raises an eyebrow, and Megaera nods. _Go ahead._ It’s the work of a moment for Thanatos to snag a condom from the night stand, and Zagreus doesn’t notice, absorbed in his work as Megaera grinds up against his face.

Then Thanatos slips into place behind Zagreus, and –

“Faaah,” Zagreus yelps, “oh, shit,” and Megaera savours the way his body curls up as Thanatos slides into him.

Thanatos grunts, just a little, right in the back of his throat. Pleasure tends to catch at his tongue, leaving him quiet and breathy, the polar opposite of Zagreus’ foul-mouthed groaning. Any noise from Thanatos is a precious one, evidence of overwhelming intensity as he starts to lose control.

She loves it when he loses control.

“Fuck him,” Megaera orders crisply, dragging Zagreus’ head back on task.

Thanatos starts slowly, like always, rocking in and out of Zagreus with his hands clutching at Zagreus’ twitching hips. Thanatos closes his eyes, screwing up his face in pleasure.

Zagreus, thoroughly distracted, laps sloppily at Megaera, a low, thready moan hitching with his breath.

She tugs his head up to look at her. He’s gasping, face gleaming with her slick, eyes wide and shining.

Sneering, she gives him a sharp slap. “Focus. Do you want to come or not?”

Megaera is proud of her control. She always slaps carefully, with vicious precision, and this blow wasn’t hard enough to do more than sting across Zagreus’ cheek – but it’s more than enough to make him gasp.

“Yes, Meg, I want – I want to come, please, I’ll – _ah_ , I’ll do better for you,” Zagreus begs, voice thick and desperate.

He’s stunning, like this. It makes her want to pounce, to hunt and take and _keep._

“Good,” she breathes, and shoves him back down. “Than?”

With a molten look, Thanatos picks up the pace. He fucks Zagreus thoroughly, evenly, and without remorse, plunging in and back with steady rhythm. Megaera ogles the flex of his torso, the rock of his hips, the familiar clutch of his always-chilly fingers at Zagreus’ sides. It took time to get him comfortable being watched; now he takes to it like a plant to sunshine, blooming for her, eager for her approval. She licks her lips, and his hips stutter.

Zagreus whines and gasps, hot breath wet on Megaera. He’s determined to see this through, even as he’s obviously getting the soul fucked out of him. It’s terribly sweet. Megaera shows a little pity and grinds her clit on his soft, sucking lips, and warm pleasure settles in her pelvis. Her toes curl, and her breath comes faster.

Fuck. She’s closer than she thought.

With a rough tug, she pulls Zagreus off her. “Make him come,” she snaps at Thanatos, and he nods, eyes blazing.

Quick as lightning, Thanatos snatches the short chain between Zagreus’ cuffs and _yanks_ , jerking Zagreus’ shoulders back in a sharp curve. With a wild yelp, Zagreus loses his balance, slipping onto his side with his head in Megaera’s lap.

The move doesn’t phase Thanatos. Chain pulled tight in one hand, Thanatos hoists up Zagreus’ top leg to hook it over his shoulder, leaving Zagreus squirming and on display for Megaera’s hungry stare.

And she looks. Oh, she looks – Zagreus, wet mouth gaping open as he gasps and wails, his beautifully sculpted muscles shivering, writhing as he fights to regain his balance; Thanatos, hammering into him with cruel precision, cuffs in one hand, Zagreus’ shaking leg in the other, with a deep snarl curling over his lips.

Megaera grins back, rubbing at her clit with purpose. Her lovely, sweet, ferocious boys.

Thanatos is close, she can tell. He’s getting to that place where his passion overwhelms his nerves, where he kisses like he fucks and he fucks like a predator. His eyes are sharp and hot, latched onto Zagreus’ face as he struggles. He pounds into Zagreus, leaning over him, letting slip a string of low growls.

Zagreus, too, is teetering on the edge. He’s lost coherence, stuck with shivering whines and punched-out little yelps of _fuck_ and _yes._ His chest, arched towards Megaera by the harsh angle of his spine, bounces with every thrust.

Hells. She never claimed to be patient. She wants to watch him come, and she wants it now. Megaera takes her free hand, grabs Zagreus’ nipple, and tugs viciously.

Zagreus _wails_.

“Fuck,” Thanatos snarls, and hammers into Zagreus’ writhing body.

Megaera presses harder onto her clit, the edges of pleasure clawing at her. Zagreus’ shaking whine. Thanatos’ gritted teeth. Their beautiful movement as they grind and smash together, shaking each other toward climax.

With a few frantic thrusts, Thanatos grunts and comes, clutching at Zagreus’ calf. Zagreus shakes, legs quivering and eyes vacant, shuddering into Megaera’s lap. “Please,” he begs.

“Need some more?” Meg rasps.

He just presses his chest into her grasping hand. With a generous squeeze, she digs her nails into his areola and twists.

Zagreus comes screaming.

It doesn’t take Megaera much longer, after that, with Zagreus’ soft, wet eyes staring at her, full of that hot-heavy devotion that shivers through her core as he gasps his way back to coherence. She snarls a little, legs twitching up as the wash of shivery-warm pleasure floods her veins. She falls back into the pillows with a huff.

“Gods,” Thanatos pants.

“Mmm,” Zagreus agrees.

“Than, get his – get his cuffs off,” Megaera says.

She stares up at the cream-white ceiling as Thanatos deals with the cuffs. One of the many bonuses of a triad: delegation of tasks. It only takes a minute for him to slog back up to the bed, force a couple of Advil into Zagreus, pass around a bottle of red Gatorade, and herd them all into the Right Positions like an anxious border collie.

Once Thanatos has dragged Zagreus up onto the pillows and curled up against his back, Megaera snuggles happily into Zagreus’ front. It’s the way they sleep, when all of them share a bed. Zagreus, human furnace and Original Boyfriend, takes the middle, so Thanatos can practice his octopus impression without making Megaera kick him, and Megaera can slip away for early work without disturbing her boys.

Thanatos, face buried in Zagreus’ neck, hums happily. Zagreus’ eyes are closed, but he’s grinning, smug and satiated. Megaera watches, eyes heavy-lidded, then settles herself face-first into Zagreus’ collarbones. He smells lovely, like sweat and fresh air and the slight white-glue odor of his unscented body wash.

“So,” Megaera says, raspier than usual, though not by a lot, “do you have something you want to tell us, Zag?”

“Uh?” Zagreus croaks.

Megaera laughs, snorting a bit. “This is the third time in two weeks you came home from training begging to get fucked.”

“…No it’s not,” Zagreus lies.

Thanatos chuckles, deep and fond. “If you suddenly developed a locker room fetish or something, we should talk about it.”

Zagreus hisses and softly bumps his head on Thanatos’ nose. “Gross.”

“Kinkshaming!” Megaera laughs, and flicks his arm, hard.

“Ow, fuck! I’m not! Just…”

Megaera pauses. There’s a little worried crease right between his eyebrows. He’s actually nervous about this. “Is it something illegal?” she asks.

“No,” Zagreus yelps.

“Is it about your dad?”

“No, it’s not about my father!”

“Then what’s the problem?” Megaera says.

Zagreus sighs. “I’ve been… flirting.”

Thanatos snorts into his neck.

“Shut it,” Zagreus mutters, mouth curling up. “You know Achilles.”

Megaera’s eyes narrow. “Our old trainer? Who’s married?”

Zagreus blushes a little. “Okay, I should start again. I’ve been – ” He pauses. “You know Achilles’ husband is Patroclus from the café, right?”

“The guy you keep seducing into giving you pastries and coffee,” Thanatos murmurs.

“It’s not like that,” Zagreus mutters back. “Well. It is a little. But it’s not just me, okay? He flirts with me _all the time_. And he’s. Well. Than, you saw him. He’s stunning.”

Thanatos grunts in grudging agreement.

“Thank you. So we flirt, and it’s fun, and all that. And then Achilles starts it up too.”

Megaera narrows her eyes. “Your married trainer is flirting with you.”

“Meg, no, it’s not like that, it’s just…”

“Then what is it like,” she pushes.

Thanatos grumbles. “He’s got an awful crush on teacher and also teacher’s husband, and teacher and teacher’s husband seem to be responding. Am I wrong?”

Zagreus just groans.

“And Achilles isn’t doing anything strange during training? Making you uncomfortable, treating you any differently…?” Megaera says.

“No,” Zagreus says. “It’s all normal. He just… he looks at me like he wants me. And sometimes he cracks jokes. That’s all.”

“Hm,” Megaera says.

“It would be easier if they weren’t both gorgeous and also actually nice,” Zagreus moans.

Thanatos snickers into the back of his neck. “Is it called unicorn hunting if they’re a gay couple?”

That finally makes Zagreus laugh, and Megaera relaxes a little bit.

After a minute of soft, sleepy quiet, Thanatos starts to snore softly, and Megaera runs the tip of one fingernail down Zagreus’ chest. “Do you want them both? Really? Or is it just fun to be wanted by them?” she murmurs. “No right answer.”

Zagreus looks at her, all honest, gentle sweetness. “I think I do. Want them. I like them so much, Meg, they’re really good people, we’re friends. And they’re fun and loving and a little mean, and I want…” He pauses to cup her face in his hand. “I want to know what will happen, either way.”

She frowns a little, but kisses his palm. “If you’re sure it’s safe, I trust you. But if anything gets weird, even a little bit, you call us, okay? You call me. I’ll come get you out of it and we’ll figure out what to do.” She sighs. “And I want to talk to Achilles, first. You don’t need my permission, but I miss the old bastard.”

Zagreus grins, his biggest, blinding-bright, sunshiney, delighted smile. “I love you,” he says, and kisses her gently on the lips.

She smiles. “Love you back.”

“Go to _sleep_ ,” Thanatos grumbles. “We are _napping_. I have work in two hours.”

“We have got to get you a better job,” Meg says.

“Love you too, Than,” Zagreus mumbles.

-

Achilles winces at the loud chime of the bell over the coffee shop’s door. The place isn’t busy, it being a weekday evening, with only a few people lounging in the corner with the overstuffed chairs and the barista cleaning the counters. He sweeps the faces he can see for one he recognizes –

Oh. There she is.

Megaera perches elegantly on a barstool by the window, hair up in an impossibly neat, straight ponytail, eyeliner sharply winged, bright lipstick impeccable. She looks like she’s dressed to pitch to a fashion magazine, not to catch up with an old acquaintance. She gives him a wry little wave.

Achilles grins back. “Meg, dear.”

“Hi,” she says, voice smoke-rough and gentle. “Been a bit.”

He chuckles, and weaves through tables to her side. “You look lovely. Coming from work?”

She shrugs. “I prefer to dress well, when I can.”

“Artful dodge, there,” Achilles says, and offers a hand to shake. “You needn’t have bothered.” He glances down at his own outfit: a thin hoodie and running pants, straight from the gym.

“Don’t worry about it,” she murmurs, and brushes aside his hand to reach in for a hug.

He takes her in, gratefully.

She’s so much taller than he remembered. If she were wearing heels, they’d probably be of a height; as it is, her chin could rest comfortably on his shoulder. She still feels the same in his arms, all lean muscle and long arms, but she’s shed the awkward discomfort of her youth.

She gives him a little squeeze around the shoulders, and Achilles lets her go, pulling back a half-step to take her in. “It was wonderful to hear from you. It’s been – ugh, don’t tell me how long,” he laughs. “I’m glad you were free.”

Meg smiles, a twinkle of honest fondness in her eyes. “My boys are off visiting family today, and I figured it was time to say hello. Do you want anything? I was about to get a refill,” she says, and looks to the tiny espresso cup on the bar in front of her.

“Well, if you’re offering, I’m dying for a green tea,” Achilles says, and pulls a ten-dollar bill from his bag. “Here. For yours, too.”

Meg snorts.

Achilles waves the bill at her. “Oh, I’m not allowed to do something nice for my favourite student?”

“No, sir,” she says. “It’s that your husband does the exact same thing to Zagreus.”

Achilles pulls back, startled. “You’ve met Pat?”

She laughs. “No, no. But I’d like to. Can’t wait to see the poor sucker who got himself saddled with you for eternity.”

Achilles beams. Gods, he missed her. “He has got terrible taste, that one.”

“Lucky you.” She plucks the money from his hand, and strides to the counter.

With a little sigh, Achilles settles himself on a barstool, slinging his gym bag on the back. He takes a moment to check his phone, but nothing’s come up, only a few notifications from some games he never figured out how to uninstall.

It’s been probably a decade since he’d seen Megaera. He can picture her so well – a leggy, furious teenager desperate to whip the world into shape around her. How she tore into punching bags like they’d wronged her personally. The quiet, determined way she sat utterly still to listen as her first self-defense class shared their stories. Even her first workshop, where she’d misjudged an angle and punched him square in the balls. He smiles wryly, thinking of her face, the horror that she’d hurt him mingling with the thrilling revelation of her own strength.

Meg returns with her espresso and his scalded-but-drinkable tea, and settles in beside him. She doesn’t give him any change, but he’s sure it went into the tip jar, not her pocket.

They chat, for a while. He tells her about the struggle to find an accessible apartment, and the lovely flat they finally discovered, like a gem in the bottom of a dusty pot. She tells him about her sisters’ madcap adventures starting up their firm, and her own search for a job that would work around her teaching. They laugh at Achilles’ favourite new story - a panicking midnight hunt for a 24-hour florist, and the hours-later realization that Patroclus’ birthday wasn’t even that month, let alone that evening.

“I’m glad you’re both doing well,” Meg says, running a manicured finger along the edge of her espresso cup. “I never meant to lose contact. It was… a complicated time, with the move, and with Tis in hospital and everything. You know.”

“I do,” Achilles says.

They lapse into a warm silence. He looks at her, sees the fire still burning in her eyes, the strength in her shoulders and her dexterous hands.

“So,” Achilles says, winningly, “you and Zagreus? _And_ Thanatos?”

Meg smiles – not the challenging smirk he’s used to, or even the subtle, pleased one she greeted him with, but a soft, unconscious quirk of the lips. “Yeah. It was a bit of a surprise, but Thanatos is sweet. And Zag… He’s grown up a lot.”

Achilles smiles back. “That he has.”

She looks at him carefully, and the smile fades from her face. “Actually,” she says, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

He blinks, and nods a little – _go on._

“Us and Zagreus – we’re open. You know that,” Meg says, staring right into his eyes. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure, actually, but the confirmation is nice. “And you’ve been flirting.”

The blood drains from Achilles’ face.

Meg just waits, letting the silence build to a crushing weight. 

“Yes,” he says, finally. “I have.”

Her eyes are sharp and calculating. “He’s your student,” she says.

“Yes,” he says, again, struggling not to wince. “I trust that if I cross a boundary, he will let me know.”

“You’ve already crossed a boundary.”

His stomach drops, puddling somewhere on the floor. “What? I – I never meant him any harm, and if this is – if he wants to see another trainer, I can provide a list of people I trust, or, if he doesn’t want to speak to me again, I completely understand - ”

Meg holds up a hand, and Achilles’ mouth snaps shut. “I mean that flirting with a client is, on its own, completely inappropriate. You know that. You were the one who taught _me_ that. But.”

Achilles frowns. “But.”

“Zagreus is an adult. I trust him to take care of himself, and to make his own choices. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be in a relationship.” Meg looks out at the street. The road is getting busier as noon approaches. “And now, I am trusting you to do the same.”

Huh.

“Meg? What exactly do you mean by that?” Achilles prods, heart slamming in his ribcage.

She rolls her eyes and uncrosses her legs, leaning forward. “I mean that my boyfriend can be an idiot, sometimes. But if he wants to… get to know you and your husband better, that’s his business, and I won’t tell him no.”

Achilles is struck, for a moment, by how much she’s grown. The furious girl he met, a trapped creature raging at the bars of her cage, is now a powerful, intelligent woman, stable and sure of herself and the people she loves.

Then he remembers the conversation, and abruptly turns scarlet.

“Ah,” he says. “Right.”

“That is, as long as you and Patroclus know what you’re doing.”

“We’ve… shared our bed before,” Achilles stammers.

“Hm,” she says, imperious and devastating.

Gods. She’s incredible at that; he feels about an inch tall. “It’s not – Meg, it’s not a whim,” he find himself saying. “He’s – Zagreus is wonderful. He’s done so much for us, and we want to… share our love with him. Show him what he means to the both of us.”

The very corner of her mouth turns up a tiny bit. “He’s got a lot of love to give.”

Achilles just nods. “That he does.”

Apparently seeing something she likes, her shoulders relax, and she lets her blade-sharp gaze fall to her empty cup. (He hadn’t noticed her tense up in the first place – he’s clearly losing his edge.) “He’s sweet. And he’ll give you just about anything you want, if you treat him right. So. Treat him right.” She pauses. “It should go without saying that if you ever, ever hurt him, I will make sure that pain falls back on you tenfold.”

Achilles grins, nerves and pride and affection shoving each other around in his chest. “Meg, dear, If I thought anything else, you wouldn’t be you.”

For the first time he’s ever seen, Meg blushes.

-

The sun is setting in a dazzling spray of red and gold as Thanatos pulls into the driveway. The local classical music station fades out as he turns the volume down. The car is silent, interrupted only by Zagreus’ breathing.

“Zag,” Thanatos murmurs. “We’re here.”

Zagreus doesn’t move, just snores a little. He’s always beautiful, really – his sharp jaw, the breadth of his shoulders, his big, kind eyes – but in the sunset he has a particular glow, like he’s limned all over by flame. It’s rare to see him so still.

“Zag,” Thanatos says again, reaching over to carefully lay his hand on Zagreus’ arm.

His thick, dark eyelashes flutter. “Muh?”

“You’re home.”

“Oh,” Zagreus says. He shakes his head and stretches his arms. “Aw. Sorry. Didn’t mean to crash like that.”

He’s so lovely like this, with his bright, intense energy relaxed down to comfortable, warm embers. Thanatos smiles. “No problem. It was a long day.”

Zagreus yawns. “Your mom is so great,” he says. “We should see her more often.”

Thanatos glances out at the driveway, and the encroaching cool blue of the night. “Maybe. It’s pretty out of the way.”

“She didn’t even ask you about marriage today. That’s something, right?”

“It’s something.”

Zagreus looks at him, a little frown in place.

“Your bag is in the back, right? Not the trunk?” Thanatos says.

“Yeah, it is.”

Thanatos flicks a switch on his door. “Okay, all unlocked.”

“Okay.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Thanatos can feel his pulse thumping in his ears.

“Than, are you alright?” Zagreus asks, tentative. “You look tense.”

“I’m fine,” Thanatos snaps.

Zagreus raises his eyebrows.

“Fuck,” Thanatos hisses, and he drags a hand through his already-rumpled hair. “Sorry. I’m not… doing great. You’re right.”

Zagreus lays a steadying hand on Thanatos’ knee, and they stay there for a minute, watching the sun set in the rear view mirror. The night is coming in fast, and with it, the chill of the end of summer.

“Should I have left it alone? With Eris?” Zagreus says.

“No,” Thanatos says. “No, you did the right thing. She was out of line.”

“I don’t want to make your relationship any more complicated than it already is,” Zagreus says, a little rueful.

“You didn’t. It’s fine.”

Zagreus looks at him, face worried. “Thanatos, you know I love you.”

Thanatos turns to stare at the steering wheel. “Of course.”

“No, love, look at me for a minute?”

The wheel cover is a stupid thing Hypnos found at a garage sale – a pockmarked leather hoop with embroidered Tweety Birds at ten and two. He wouldn’t stop whining about it until Thanatos let him put it in the car, and now it won’t come off.

“Than?”

Thanatos wrestles down his instinct to snap and turns back to Zagreus.

Zagreus just looks at him, soft and open and gentle. His honesty rubs at the rawest places in Thanatos’ heart. “Thanatos. I love you.”

Oh, it aches, it aches, it aches. Thanatos’ heart kicks like a panicked horse under his ribs. “I love you too,” he whispers.

“Good.”

“Good,” Thanatos echoes.

Zagreus’ face softens to something neutral, non-judgmental. “What did she say this time, love?”

Thanatos shakes his head and looks back out the window. He braces his hands on the steering wheel. “She said,” he murmurs, “that no one would want to stay with me once they got to know me. So I should get ready for when you leave.”

“What the fuck?” Zagreus snaps. “Where on earth does she get off – she doesn’t even _know_ you, who the hell does she think she is – ”

“Zag, please,” Thanatos says. “I know she’s just doing it because… that’s who she is. She’s not a good person,” he says, diplomatically. “She just… wants attention, and that’s how she knows to get it.”

“Yeah, because she’s a horrible bitch,” Zagreus mutters.

Thanatos frowns. “She’s still my sister.”

“Fuck. I know. It just makes me so mad.”

The silence creeps back in, a little cooler this time.

“I,” Thanatos starts, then shakes his head. “You’ve been talking about other people more, that’s all. You know me. Nervous about the silliest things.”

“No, love, that’s not silly at all.”

“Oh, so you _are_ going to run off with your personal trainer and his husband, then, leaving me to mourn in the dust like an aging divorcée?”

Zagreus sputters, and laughs, a little. “Vivid.”

Thanatos smiles, but it’s crooked. He takes Zagreus’ hand and squeezes it tight. “I know it’s foolish, and I know it’s not… anything to do with you, just my own insecurities. But.”

“But?”

“I worry,” Thanatos says, and then braces himself. “I worry, sometimes, that we’re not… enough. For you. That I’m doing something wrong.” At Zagreus’ stricken look, Thanatos shakes his head, and says, “You’ve never given me any reason to think so, Zag, not ever – Eris just gets under my _skin_. I don’t know if these feelings are ever going to go away 100 percent, but that’s not the point – the point is that I know you, and I trust you, and if anything were really wrong you would tell me. Like I’m telling you right now. Because we trust each other.”

Thanatos hisses out a breath, and looks at the steering wheel. He’s here, he’s grounded. He’s in the car with his boyfriend outside his boyfriend’s house. His sisters are an hour and a half away. It’s just the two of them. It’s safe.

“This is good,” he continues. “What we have. And I’m happy. And when you want to find other loves, other new adventures, I don’t care – not as long as you come home. Back to us. Back to me. I know that you love me. And I know that I love you. And that’s enough. Alright? That’s enough for me. I don’t need anything else.”

Zagreus stares.

“Fuck,” Thanatos says. “Did I say something wrong?”

“I – _Than_ ,” Zagreus says, and leans across the car to kiss him.

The press of his lips, soft and cool, in the last rays of the sun. The pressure of his hand on Thanatos’ knee. The gentle hiss of breath. The release of fear. The slow, steady warmth of belonging.

It takes a minute or two for Zagreus to pull away. “Hypnos is out for the night,” he breathes. “Come upstairs with me?”

Thanatos lets himself smile, just a little. “Don’t expect any great miracles. I’ve been driving all day, and I’m not one of your handsome military men.”

“Than!” Zagreus hisses, and gives Thanatos a light, playful smack on the knee.

“I’m just saying.”

Zagreus sticks out his tongue, struggling not to laugh, and it feels right.

It all feels so right.

-

“Darling,” Achilles sings as he bursts into the bedroom. “Sweetheart. Sugar lump. My dearest dainty duck.”

“Quack,” Patroclus says, dutifully, hauling himself up to sit with his back to the headboard.

“I,” Achilles says, “have returned from the most awkward conversation of my life.”

“Worse than telling your mother about me?”

Achilles squints. “That doesn’t count. Watching Mum have a meltdown and destroy her own living room was not a conversation.”

Patroclus laughs, and closes his laptop, tucking it sideways between the night table and the bed. “Well?”

With a flounce, Achilles flops backward onto the mattress, neatly avoiding Patroclus’ foot. “After work, I had coffee with Megaera.”

“Zagreus’ partner?”

“One of my first students,” Achilles sniffs. “And also Zag’s partner, yes. She’s in the picture on the fridge, actually. The girl with the hair.”

“Wait, her?” Patroclus says. “The sneery one?”

“She’s all grown up, now. Looks like a runway model,” Achilles sighs.

“Aw.”

Achilles throws a hand over his face. “She’s so tall. And so _thin_. It’s awful. I just wanted to take her home, give her… soup, or something.”

“Gods, you sad sack,” Patroclus says fondly. “She’s a grown woman, not a stray cat.”

Achilles makes a face and smacks Patroclus on the leg. It’s softened by the thick quilt. “She’s got her own practice now, you know, teaching self-defense. Could probably punch me in half,” he says, wistful.

Patroclus laughs. “Is that why you’re home late? Had to stop in the café bathroom, wank it out?”

“You,” Achilles hisses, and smacks his husband’s leg again.

“Hell of a way to tell me you’re bisexual,” Patroclus says. “Maybe now you’ll take me up on that threesome with Bris?”

Achilles groans. “Paaaat.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Patroclus chuckles. “So what made it awkward, then, if not your Oedipal lust for mean women?”

“One day I’m going to pack up and leave, and then you’ll be sorry,” Achilles says, then winces.

Patroclus waves a hand. “Let’s not, today.”

“Right,” Achilles murmurs, then shakes his head. “She, ah. Wanted to talk about Zagreus, actually.”

“Oh, really,” Patroclus says, intrigue in his voice.

Achilles feels the hair on his neck stand up. “Oh no. Don’t you dare.”

“What,” Patroclus purrs. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t have to, you insatiable gossip-hound,” Achilles says, and crawls up next to Patroclus, curling up beside him on top of the covers. “It wasn’t even that salacious.”

“No tips for seduction? No candid nudes?”

Achilles laughs. “Not at all. Got a bit of a shovel talk, actually.”

Patroclus pauses, and looks at him carefully. “Really.”

“Yep,” Achilles says, snapping the P.

“So,” Patroclus drawls, “she knows you want him.”

Achilles makes a face. “Gods. She’s like my… long-lost niece or something. You ever had your niece ask how _well_ you plan to _fuck her boyfriend_.”

“No, in fact, I have not,” Patroclus chuckles.

“Ugh,” Achilles despairs. “I think I stopped making sense entirely at some point. Bright red, all over, like a blotchy tomato.”

Patroclus gives him a loud, wet kiss on the cheek. “That’s the man I married.”

“Twat.”

“Prude. So,” Patroclus prods, “she approves, then.”

“That is the impression she left me with, yes.”

Patroclus grins at Achilles, bright and hot. “Then we have some planning to do, don’t we.”

“I think we may, yes,” Achilles says, snaking a hand under the covers. It trails lightly down Patroclus’ chest, his belly. Further. “We could get a head start on it, maybe, if you’re not busy.”

“Mm,” Patroclus says, leaning in for a kiss. “I think I have a few hours free.”

“How convenient,” Achilles says, and then neither of them speak for a good long while.

-

A couple days later, Hypnos wakes to the sharp buzz of a cell phone.

“Ngah?” he says, squinting at a sunlit, vaguely familiar wall. Right. Not his room. Zag’s room? Probably. He’s laying on someone. They have their face squashed in his neck.

He blinks and squints harder. His ass hurts. Good hurts. Probably got railed last night. Back hurts a little too. Hell yeah.

“Zag’us,” Hypnos slurs. “Time’sit.”

“Shuddup,” his mattress grunts.

Hypnos snorts. “Bitch.” With a heave, he rolls off of his comfy warm human pillow and onto the cold side of the mattress. “Y’r phone.”

The phone buzzes again.

“Fuck,” snarls probably-his-roommate.

Hypnos flails his hand out to the bedside table, patting around. He hits something – oh, _nice_ , Zag’s cute purple strap-on, that explains a lot. And… there’s the phone.

He grabs it and drops it on Zag’s face.

“Ow, fuck,” Zagreus whines.

“Shut up your phone,” Hypnos groans.

“Shut up your _face_.”

Hypnos feels a rising desire to knee his roommate in the butt. Instead, he flops back over onto him.

“Ghh,” Zag grunts.

He’s warm. Yay. Hypnos slings a long leg over Zag’s hips and snuggles in to his personal human radiator. “Who texts you this early.”

“It’s like three PM,” Zagreus groans.

“Said what I said.” Hypnos nuzzles into the back of Zag’s neck, giving him a little kiss right on his hairline. He smells nice. All sweaty and clean.

“…Oh,” Zag says.

“Oh? Oh what.”

“It’s Achilles. Um, my trainer.”

Hypnos peers up over Zag’s shoulder. Sure enough, there’s a text from _Achilles,_ and a couple more from _Unknown_. Interesting. “Whasit say.”

“None of your business.”

“Come on,” Hypnos wheedles.

Zag sighs. “’M only telling you cuz I know you’d just gonna steal my phone later and read it anyway.”

“Correct,” Hypnos chirps.

Zag elbows him fondly in the ribs, so Hypnos bites his shoulder, and then, of course, they wrestle like kids for a minute or two.

Zagreus ends up on top, straddling Hypnos and holding him down with two warm hands on Hypnos’ skinny chest. He’s panting a little, pupils wide. It’s a very, very good look, especially since neither of them bothered to put on pyjamas last night.

“I win,” he pants, triumphant, and grabs up his cell from the blankets.

Hypnos, smug grin in place, runs a hand up Zag’s muscled thigh all the way to his crotch. “You win.”

Zag squirms in his lap, which is a fantastic turn of events. “Do you want me to read you the damn texts or not.”

“Please do,” Hypnos says, and brushes his thumb over Zag’s dick.

“Mmmh. Okay. Uh, Achilles says, _Apparently Pat didn’t have your number, so I gave it to him, hope that’s alright, I’ll tell him off if it isn’t._ And that was, like, _ah,_ early this morning, _fuck_ , Hypnos.”

“Wow, he really does want your dick, huh,” Hypnos says idly. “Is Pat his hubby?”

“Yeah,” Zag breathes. “They, uh, things were complicated and they were estranged, but I, _ah._ Turns out Patroclus lived in the same neighborhood as the gym for years, they just hadn’t run into each other? So I. _Fuck._ ”

“I bet you did,” Hypnos laughs, and rubs a little harder.

“No, I didn’t,” Zag whines, “but they’ve been flirting with me for ages, and they’re both disgustingly hot, it’s awful.”

“Ooh, kinky. Twink seduced by married daddies.” The look on Zag’s face at that has Hypnos cracking up. 

“Get your hand off my dick, you monster.”

“Nope,” Hypnos chirps, and grinds up into Zag’s crotch.

“ _Shit_.” Zagreus smacks a little at Hypnos’ chest. “Get a. Get a condom, come on.”

“You do it, I’m busy,” Hypnos says, and gets Zag’s shaft between his fingers to jerk him off.

Zag groans, rough and deep. “Such a bitch,” he says, and reaches over to rifle through the night table drawer, grinding him delightfully all over Hypnos’ dick.

“Mmm, that’s me, King Bitch,” Hypnos says, and when Zag throws a condom packet at his head, he only fumbles it a little. He sighs when he has to take his hand off Zag’s dick, but, yay, time to touch his own dick now. He gets the condom on with minimal fuss, tossing the wrapper off the side of the bed.

“When you get lube on your foot you will only have yourself to blame,” Zag proclaims wisely, then shuffles forward to sink down on Hypnos’ cock.

“Oh, _fuck_ , baby boy,” Hypnos groans.

“Still only – ah – ten months younger,” Zag says.

Hypnos laughs. “You love it, though. I’m all older and wiser and shit.”

Zag groans. “Yes, that’s exactly it, you understand my kinks so perfectly. _Ah_.” He hits the base of Hypnos’ dick with a hiss, and clenches hard, making Hypnos gasp.

“So?” Hypnos says, breathy.

“So _what_.”

“What are the other texts.”

“Seriously.”

“Yep,” Hypnos sings, catching Zag’s hips in his hands. “No moving ‘til we’re done.”

“You’re such a _dick_ ,” Zag huffs. He grabs up his phone again, clenching in rhythm like he’s doing Kegels or some other mean shit to drive Hypnos crazy. (It’s working a little. Hypnos has to focus _very_ hard not to shift his hips around.)

“Okay, uh. _Unknown_ is probably Patroclus, that makes the most sense, and, uh. First one is _Hello stranger._ Aw.”

“Weird.”

“No, it’s – it’s like, an in-joke.”

“You already have in-jokes with these guys?”

“I’ve known Patroclus for two years.”

Hypnos’ eyes go wide. “Seriously? And you haven’t fucked him yet?”

Zag laughs, face going red. “Shut _up._ ”

“I’m going to have to rescind your Best Slut award.”

“Can’t. It’s already in the history books,” Zag giggles, and grinds back on Hypnos’ dick, which is, in combination with his sneaky, horny, gorgeous face, a _lot_.

“Mmh,” Hypnos groans. “Change of plans. I’m gonna fuck you, right now.”

“Fuck yes do it,” Zagreus pants, grinning, and swivels his hips around again.

Hypnos curses, then guides Zag’s hips up, giving him a little more leeway to slam back home.

Zag yelps, but it’s the nice yelp like when Hypnos bites him. So, licking his lips, he thrusts again, setting up a quick, bouncing rhythm, pushing Zag hard and fast. Zag’s crying out in sharp bursts, like the sound is getting fucked out of him with every stroke.

“Holy shit, Hypnos,” he gasps.

Smug, Hypnos reaches back to his dick, rubbing at the head with his thumb the way that drives Zag up the wall. Zag’s legs shake, and Hypnos presses harder. Fuck. He’s not going to last long. “Come on, baby boy. Wanna feel you come on me.”

Zag just whines, thighs shaking as he holds himself up.

“I know, baby, you’re so good, such a soft touch, such a good slut for me,” Hypnos murmurs, delight and pleasure spiralling together down his spine to collect right under his dick. “You come so easy, sweetheart, let me see it.”

“Oh, gods,” Zag says, “I’m – oh fuck, I’m actually gonna come, holy shit.”

Glee bubbles up in Hypnos’ chest. “Yeah, Zag. Come on, let it go.”

“Fuck,” Zag yelps, and clenches like a vise, shivering all over, thighs twitching. “Don’t stop.”

Hypnos doesn’t. He hammers in, bouncing Zagreus from one crest to the next, until Zag slaps at Hypnos’ chest with a whimper.

He slows. “You good?”

Zag just nods, pupils huge and looking a little spacey.

“Okay, good, good boy, you did amazing, babe,” Hypnos murmurs, easing Zag off his dick to let him flop on the bed beside him.

“Y’r not done,” Zag mumbles.

“Nope,” Hypnos says, and takes Zag’s hand in his. They’re pretty close in size, actually; even with Hypnos’ weird spider hands, and Zag being so much shorter, he’s got wide, square palms to make up the difference. “Gimme a hand. Wink.”

A warm shudder runs through Zag’s body, and he shakes his head. “No, no, lemme suck it.”

Hypnos has to take a second, at that. He sort of gestures at his dick. “Feel free.”

“Mmmyay,” Zag says, and shuffles down the bed to slip the condom off.

“Babe – ”

“This lube is gross and I know we’re both clean and I want your come in my mouth,” Zag says, petulant.

Hypnos breathes in, then out. “Yup. Yeah. Sure. Got it. Go ahead.”

Zag grins, and slips Hypnos’ _whole dick_ right into his throat.

“Holy shit,” Hypnos squeaks, entire brain narrowing down to _wet-hot-tight-slick_.

Zagreus bobs up and down like a pro, looking up at him through thick, dark eyelashes. His cheeks are hollowed, sucking hard, with his lips curled over his teeth, and Hypnos can feel the soft clutching grasp of the back of Zag’s throat on the head of his dick.

With a wet popping sound, Zag pulls off, a string of spit connecting his pink tongue and Hypnos’ shaft. “Pull my hair,” he orders, voice rasping.

“Sir yes sir,” Hypnos says, and slides his hand into Zag’s thick, dark hair, giving it a solid yank. Zag moans, eyelids flickering, and dives back down, licking and sucking with abandon.

Hypnos groans, feels thick heat ratchet tight in his hips. “Gonna come, Zag.”

Zag hums, and ducks down, swallowing hard.

Gasping, Hypnos comes, and comes, and comes.

“What the fuck,” he says, when he can sort of feel his face again. Zagreus is still down at his hips, nuzzling his oversensitive dick, and there’s – _fuck_ , there’s a stray streak of his come on Zag’s lip, this boy is going to _kill him_.

“Get – get the fuck up here,” Hypnos says, and leans in to meet Zag mouth-first, licking him clean and kissing him stupid.

They make out for a little while. Zag doesn’t have work today, and Hypnos is happy being a drain on both society and his deadbeat dad’s bank account, so they have all afternoon to lounge around.

Until Zag’s phone buzzes, again.

“Oh, shit,” Zag says, unlocking it. “I never read the, uh. Other text.”

“Whazzit say.”

“Uh. Patroclus says – oh.”

Hypnos snatches the phone out of Zag’s hands.

_From: Unknown_

_We’ve been talking, and we’d like to take you out sometime. Soon. Dinner, next week? Let me know._

Then, from just now:

_From: Unknown_

_If this is the wrong number, my apologies._

“Gimme my – Hypnos, you dick,” Zag sputters.

Hypnos cackles. “They want to _date_ you?”

“I’m very dateable!” Zagreus yelps, flushing red down to his shoulders, grinning like a loon.

Hypnos just laughs and laughs.

-

_From: Zagreus (?)_

_hi stranger :) yeah id really like that!!_

_maybe friday night?? im free in the evening?_

_To: Definitely Zagreus_

_It’s a plan. :)_

**Author's Note:**

> As established in this 'verse, Zagreus refers to his chest alternately as chest/boobs/tits, and his genitals as his dick/cock and his hole. 
> 
> *
> 
> What's Up Fam!!!  
> i started this fic to explore the A/P/Z dynamic in this verse, and ended up falling down a wonderful rabbit hole of relationships that tapped on my shoulder and told me they were getting screen time also. it's also a fun chance to get a bit looser with POV and try out new character voices i'm not so comfortable with!! (patroclus is a delight to write, as is hypnos (suprising no one), but than is a PAIN even though i LOVE him. he is so stubborn. agghhh.) also it's been a chance to figure out megaera a little more!! i love her. she's the best. and she deserves nice things. AND. this time it's both porn _and_ things that are not porn! yaaayyy
> 
> Part 2 is on its way - can't promise a date, but it's sitting open on my laptop right now, so it does, in theory, exist! now it can only grow. haw haw.
> 
> What are your thoughts? What did you like? Let me know in the comments!! Your words feed the writing beast.
> 
> Suggested listening: Taking Chances by Kate Miucci  
> Working title: dirty old men


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